Show Me
by NoteEmmy
Summary: When the Pharaoh chases his Priest's anger he finds himself in a position he can't get himself out of.


There had been a lot of sentencing that day. Set had led the bulk of it, which was not entirely uncommon. Something about him that day had been incensed with ire and the ache of anger. Atem wasn't entirely sure what bothered the man so, and for a few brief moments in the throne room he worried for him. Sentencing wasn't easy, duty of the Court and Pharaoh or no, but taking his anger out on others was unacceptable. It was why the other members were always present- and he, of course, upon his dais. He hadn't actually seen Set say or do anything that was trembling with injustice, but all the same he had been more anxious than usual.

The dark of night was closing in around Egypt's sky and the room had been aired out for at least a couple of hours by that point. Atem had stayed behind to think, something that was also usual of him. He didn't want to follow too closely behind his Priest when he seemed so easy to anger. King as he was, missteps were all the same, and his Priest was hardly one to hold back. Eventually the questioning became more than he could take in simply stewing.

He excused himself from the few people still lingering as well and stepped away from the throne. The halls were empty, stars already dotting the sky in vibrant whites and yellows. The chill of the night air got through some of the high hanging windows and rustled through some of the curtains that had already been drawn closed. Set's usual room was empty. Normal. The man barely spent time in there. Though palace as it was, Atem wondered why he bothered having one for his Priest.

The room that got the Priest's attention more than anything else was one meant for studying. One with shelves lined with important readings. The fire was burning brightly, so warm that the warmth was what attracted Atem's steps down the hall before the actual thought that Set would be in there. The door was pushed open quietly and there he saw the tense back of his Priest sitting and scrawling at something on a table. One step in and he let the barrier close behind him, least cautious that he'd be caught in here with the other.

And uncaring, it seemed, that that anger would turn back on him as he got closer. It was rare that he ever had a vantage point. Set towered above him more often than not, standing side by side was sometimes embarrassing when the man made a point of inferring that the differing heights between them meant anything important. Standing in his shadow was unacceptable and he never made a point of brooding about it. But now Set was sitting in a low chair and Atem was able to get right up on him.

Without care or thought his hands went to Set's hair, pulling his head back before his fingers probed his lips. His eyes were intent as those blue ones humored him, only for a few more seconds he knew. He smirked. "I have to wonder if that tongue in your mouth feels as sharp as it sounds."

"You should hardly have to ask such a question." The implication was burning, and it drew a warmth to the Pharaoh's face that had Set smirking. So easy to quell his anger when the little King squirmed underneath his thumb. This game of hide and seek had turned potentially deadly as of late. Something that was noted when his eyes flicked to the door.

"Worried?" Atem mused, trying to take back the control that had been ripped so easily from him.

In that moment Set refused, his hand reaching up, pressing against the cold metal of the crown resting upon his King's brow and then running his fingers back through that wild hair. "Only that someone will witness your distaste."

He pulled the chair back with as much strength as he could muster in a lean, hands still keen on that sharp face of his Priest. "In you? Where did your prideful sense of worth disappear to?"

"Of appropriateness." Set answered easily, tilting his head back and up just enough to get a kiss on those lips that were begging. Begging to be silenced.

It was quiet and surprisingly chaste. Nothing that drew his breath away like their previous encounters. Nothing like how the Priest usually drew lines of fire across his skin with a simple touch. But he found he wasn't helping it, either, not stoking the flames. Just swimming in the simplicity. When he leaned back he saw those eyes looking at him still. "What's the matter with you?" He asked in a tone barely above a whisper.

Set reached his second hand up to meet with the first, tugging on those ridiculous strands of hair. "I've led your Court for you today. Excuse my tiredness. Tonight if you seek this you'll have to lead for once." The smirk he wore was suddenly cruel.

Cruel enough to shock Atem away a few inches. His hands rested then on the sides of Set's throat. Tempting in something that sickened him. Such easy anger. He found regardless that his hair was being pulled at like a horse's might. Set was refusing to let him shuffle back. "Yes, everyone got a show of your spite in the grand room today. Should I have been embarrassed for your sake?" He used to be good at this game, but the closer he got, the more easily Set was able to wound him.

"For yours, then; if I was out of line you should have said something." His head tilted back, catching the corner of Atem's jaw with a soft graze of his teeth. When his King acquiesced with a shudder and raise of his head he continued. "Does this scare you into quietness?" A sharper bite just above his golden collar. "Into letting me do as I please?" There was a halfhearted answer from Atem and it incensed him to bite harder. "And if I sought to take the throne from you? Would you allow that too?"

It felt like a blow to his gut, something that had him gasping in how sick it sounded and recoiling. Set released him then. He hadn't been expecting to be let go, stumbling back against a shelf. In just another moment before he could find himself his Priest was on him, grasping his wrists in his large rough hands and raising them up. Struggling was useless. Instead he tried to lead with his glare. "What are you doing?"

"Taking what my King will let me in his weakness." The answer was terrible and cruel.

It got Atem to struggle harder, not stilled even as Set shoved him harder. "How dare you." He couldn't get his hands free, only able to rock his body up to try and find his way out. Set stepped between his legs, pinning the rest of him.

"That's it." Hissed as he leaned in.

The small King was shivering in anger. "Is this the sickness you sought this entire time?"

"Right there." Crooned in such a different way so suddenly, breathless, those blue eyes of his glazed suddenly. "Give me your madness. Your God's wrath." He kept those small wrists with only one hand, the other reaching down to Atem's rounded hips, pulling him closer. He sealed their remaining distance with a bruising kiss.

He wasn't sure what was happening in that instance. Whether he was being played, had been fooled- what Set was after he wasn't sure any longer. The uncertainty set a damnably familiar anxiousness in his belly. But for all the slack he'd found lying in his arms, perhaps Set too right after all, he refused to continue it in this. His teeth were quicker than his tongue, drawing blood from Set's own and his lips where he could get it. Each time they closed over him he heard his Priest groan over him, pressing harder against him.

When Set pulled back he gasped for air, still struggling to be let go. His Priest seemed to forbid it. "What's the matter with you?"

"Is the blood of that sharp tongue enough for you?" Pressing his forehead hard against that crown, gazing into those blood red eyes of his King. He delighted in the shiver it caused. So simple. So easy.

Never once had he ever brought authority into the bedroom. It had made him feel sick even thinking about the divide and how he could have been imposing simply because of the crown he wore. But now trapped as he was his mind wasn't working the right way. Set was trapping him like he might a rat. Worse yet, he had fallen for it. "I command you to let me go." Darkened with as much anger as regret.

Set smirked more, pressing harder, relishing in the pained breath it drew from Atem. "Is that so? Why not call for your guards, then. Haul the traitor away." He hissed right into the smaller's ear.

"Set…" Unsure of the game any longer. Unsure of the control that had been so easily his, now revoked. He could shout for them. Set would be condemned for death. Could he really so callously do such a thing? His silence was as much answer as he needed. He couldn't. He was weak. He needed Set. "Please…"

"And now my King begs me." Purred as he shuddered, appeasing Atem, praising him for such a thing with softer movements, releasing his grip so both his hands could go to those hips, raising him up along the bookcase. "Begs me for what?"

Atem's hands went to Set's face, angling that look his way. "Stop this." Broken. It was enough that he watched Set recoil with the realization. His arms wrapped around his Priest's broad shoulders, legs around his waist then. He knew his friend couldn't have truly been the act he was playing at. But it relieved him all the same.

Set buried his face in Atem's shoulder, holding him up still. "My apologies, Pharaoh." Taking things too far. Even he wasn't sure what he'd been after. Something in him had felt different. Strange. Chasing in it had been the wrong idea. "Forgive me…" Much more meaning than he'd expand on. He felt burdened. Weak in his actions.

"Come upstairs with me." To his room. Forgiveness was easy. So easy that he didn't need to utter it. Those words alone got a slackened state out of Set.

"Not right here?" He forced a tease so that he could get better control of the situation.

Atem smiled at that, putting his legs back down on solid ground. His hands caressed the high angles of Set's cheeks, relishing in that his Priest leaned towards them. "They will have a harder time hearing you from your bedroom should I decide to call for them."

"I've already exposed that weakness in you." Terrible and damning- frightening, as well. That the Pharaoh would play at this even in danger. Try to keep control long before calling in backup. Did Atem trust him that much?

He leaned up, brushing his lips against Set's. "It seems that's true." He didn't mind it so much. There was no way Set would turn his back on him like that. He couldn't believe such a thing to be true. That fate would play that cruelly. His Priest kept him quiet, holding him as he sealed the kiss. Atem's tongue apologized for his teeth with slow careful sweeps. Set shivering against him in a much different manner soothed his leftover nerves. Nothing mattered in that moment more than that. Both allowing, opening, forgiving. That was all he had ever asked for.


End file.
